


here we go head first ( no regrets and no rules )

by Ethereally



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Multi, No Spoilers, Post-Canon, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22100818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereally/pseuds/Ethereally
Summary: In the public eye, the future Margrave Gautier is known as a master orator, a reformed troublemaker and a surprisingly loyal lover of the King's. But to Felix, Dimitri and Ingrid, Sylvain is human and wanting, just like everyone else-- and he's finally found a place to call home.Dimitri, Sylvain, Felix and Ingrid celebrate their first Yule together after the war.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 80
Collections: Nagamas Gifts





	here we go head first ( no regrets and no rules )

Sylvain always feels warm inside Fraldarius Manor, and not just because of the fire crackling in the parlor. A grin spreads across his face as he pushes the door open. His childhood best friends are sprawled out across the room: Ingrid resting her head on Dimitri's lap on the couch, with Felix swaddled in blankets on a large maroon rug. Dimitri perks up when his eyes meet Sylvain's. He gets up from the couch, rushing up towards Sylvain and pulling him into a tight hug. 

"Finally! You've arrived," Dimitri says, good eye brimming with the sheer joy and excitement of a golden retriever. "It's been forever."

Dimitri's grip knocks the wind out of his lungs. Somehow, Sylvain manages to respond, laughing as he steps back. "Someone's excited." 

Ingrid beams up at the two of them. "Of course we are! We've been waiting." 

Felix groans, shifting in his nest of blankets to look up at Sylvain. 

"Stop exaggerating. You two just arrived. Or are we all beholden to His Majesty and Her Knightliness' royal time?" 

Ingrid taps on Felix's shoulder with her foot. "Felix, be nice! This isn't in the spirit of Yule--"

Dimitri laughs. "No, Felix is absolutely right. Apologies-- I'm not sure we've waited more than ten or twenty minutes, but I've just been excited for the four of us to be together. All things considered, I'm still deeply sorry that we weren't able to celebrate like this together last year--"

Sylvain shrugs. "Eh, we made it happen now. That's what counts." The four of them had promised as children to celebrate the Yule festival together every five years, and last year was the first time they'd failed to keep it. He hadn't thought too much of it then. War is built on broken promises and discarded dreams, and Sylvain was too busy fighting to the death to think about trinkets and Cichol Claus. But against all odds, the war had ended in their favor. When Felix, of all people, sent a messenger to the other three a few months ago, asking if they were too busy with their new _noble duties_ to meet during the Ethereal Moon, Sylvain had felt a sudden pang of wistfulness for simpler times, a twisting sensation in his chest he didn't know he was still capable of. 

Sylvain settles down on the couch where Dimitri had been sitting, and cozies up to Ingrid. He wraps an arm around her waist, and she seems so much smaller than he's used to. His eyes widen when he realizes it's because Ingrid is no longer wearing battle armor. It's high time he got used to this change of scenery. In this new Faerghus, there's no need for bloodshed, no need for training, and no royal blue banners proclaiming war. Dimitri will ensure it, and bring about a peace reminiscent of their youth. 

But can they really mimic those idyllic days? Ingrid takes Sylvain's hand and squeezes gently, and he squeezes back. The calluses on her skin are a stark reminder of the horrors they've seen, and of atrocities committed in the name of a so-called better future. He runs his thumb against her finger, tracing one of many scars, and Ingrid rests her head on his shoulder. The circles under Felix's eyes have only deepened since war's end. There's no scrubbing the blood off their hands, not after they've stared death in its horrible maw. 

Ingrid jolts Sylvain from his train of thought with a harsh shake. 

"Sylvain? Are you doing okay?" 

Felix's voice cuts through like a knife. 

"He's overthinking. Stop it." 

Felix has gotten up from where he was sitting, and has made his way towards the couch where Sylvain and Ingrid are. He plops himself down on the other side of Sylvain, down blanket still draped around him. Sylvain hasn't seen him like this in years-- hair down, chest unbound, dressed in a white shirt that shows off his collarbones. Even if the spectres of war will always haunt them, it's nice to see Felix this comfortable. The feeling is mutual; this is the closest Sylvain has ever been to feeling truly safe. He leans over towards Felix and presses a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Maybe I am," Sylvain winks, making no attempt to hide the tired lilt in his voice. "Care to make it stop?"

Felix rolls his eyes, but he gives Sylvain a quick peck on one side of his lips. Ingrid follows with a kiss on the nose. Sylvain laughs softly, and he leans back into the couch. "Yeah, you guys made it better," Sylvain says. "Was it that easy to tell?"

A gentle smile tugs at Ingrid's lips. "We've known you long enough to guess." 

Sylvain pouts. "Really? That can't actually be it--"

Dimitri walks up to the group of them, clutching a newly-opened box of truffles. It's evident he hasn't cut his hair since his coronation, and he's pulled it back into a loose ponytail, showing off his high cheekbones. He's quite handsome, Sylvain can't help but note. It suits him. 

Dimitri sits next to Felix, before handing the chocolates to Sylvain. His voice is calm and measured.

"If you would pardon my intrusion, there's something I've noticed. Sometimes, you get this distant look in your eyes, like you're in another world..." 

"Ah." 

There was a time that sentence would have sent a shock of panic through him, the lurching sensation of being known. Instead, relief washes over him, like a heated blanket after a long day shoveling snow. Sylvain heaves a deep sigh, and every knot in his body comes undone at once, each war-torn ache and scar dissipating into the comforting scent of the log fire. He won't have to hide again. Not now, not ever. 

Felix nuzzles comfortably into Sylvain's neck, just like he might have when they were kids-- the ruthless swordsman would never have done such a thing. Ingrid does the same on his other side. It's almost nostalgic, but not quite, and it is then when Sylvain realizes with a jolt: there _is_ no returning to those childhood halcyon days. But there's no need to, not when they can build something better. 

Dimitri's reforms work towards that better world. He's sent dozens of parchments out to the rest of the Blue Lions, asking how they'd improve the world around them. Sylvain has outlined what he thinks needs to be done: he stands with Dedue and Dimitri on a liberated Duscur. He's sent paragraphs of messy handwriting back to Dimitri, demanding an unannexed Sreng. Most of all, Sylvain's letters have emphasized a policy that comes from personal grief. He wants to build a better Fódlan where young children aren't judged because of their Crest, or their lack thereof. 

In the public eye, the future Margrave Gautier is known as a master orator, a reformed troublemaker and a surprisingly loyal lover of the King's. Sometimes it feels like he's always making speeches about the evils of the Crest system, or drafting lists of reparations for Duscur, or bickering with pompous officials about Sreng. But to Felix, Dimitri and Ingrid, Sylvain is just as human and as _wanting_ as everyone else-- it is that fear that makes him a good leader, or so he'd like to think. At the end of the day, everyone just wants a place to call home. 

(If home is where the heart is, then his is split in four.)

Ingrid's voice rings out, loud and clear. 

"Sylvain, are you certain you’re alright?" 

Her brows knot in concern. Ingrid has always been too kind to Sylvain, running after him and cleaning up after his messes. Even if that isn’t as necessary any more, it’s an old habit that will take time to shake. In the meantime, Sylvain will have to do his best to assuage her. He presses his lips against Ingrid’s in a soft kiss, before pulling away. 

"I’ve never been better," Sylvain quips. For once, he's telling the complete truth.

**Author's Note:**

> title is taken from walk the moon's [aquaman](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VRVgptW7bYg). thank you so much to [indi-go](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indi_go) for beta-ing this.
> 
> happy nagamas, tumblr user dimitris-hair! i hope you like this.


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